She's now through the wilderness open door
And  here victims still protest the conflict
Where  my living proof is ravaged by dead faith
As if there is no counteracting perplexity.

Yet you remind me and it's not your duty
Love hides behind innocence
With common ground commemorating charity.

She sang the number spiral
To destroy the despair barricade
But his imagination endlessly
Stretched and twisted synchronous imagery
So I projected ambient praxis
Into those broken musings.

Do you still think the world's words
Should be sacrificed by knowledge as music?